I’m going to rant a bit after the shuffle. Stay tuned.

1. Not Pretty Enough – Kasey Chambers
2. Song 2 – Blur
3. Problems – Robert Randolph & the Family Band
4. This Love Affair – Rufus Wainwright
5. John, I’m Only Dancing – David Bowie
6. Best Friend – English Beat
7. Warm Beer & Women – Tom Waits
8. No Money Down – Soulard Blues Band
9. Can”t Get There From Here – REM
10. Shame – Morphine

For such a shit-ass year, that’s a mighty fine shuffle right there. I can’t balk when my favorite Bowie song appears. That’s gotta be a sign of hope, right?

It seems whore-bitch 2005 is insisting on going out with the same fucking miserable bravado she’s exhibited all year. Yesterday sucked. Really. We got some not-good financial news. Nothing life-shattering, but it puts a bunch of our plans that much further out of reach. Then I got some not-great health news during my doctor visit. Again, nothing life-shattering; just not what I wanted to hear even though I knew it was inevitable.

Basically, my PCOS is, as my doc said, “progressing”. What does this mean? More drugs, for starters. The medication I’ve been taking for 3.5 years is pretty harsh on the liver, and I’m looking at having to take more. Hmmm, which would I rather have: the diabetes, uterine tumors, and cardiovascular disease that go with rampant PCOS, or liver disease from years of downing 2000+ milligrams of metformin? Decisions, decisions. Lemme think on that one and I’ll get back to you.

There’s the fertility issue, too. While I’m leaning towards not getting pregnant again, the progressing PCOS, along with my age, means that my chances of getting pregnant again are damn near non-existant. This isn’t devastating news, but I don’t like the fact that I don’t get to be the one to decide if I have another pregnancy or not. Hell, a little over three years ago I thought I had no desire to be a parent. Then I had a major problem with the PCOS in which the word “hysterectomy” suddenly started making more appearances during doctor visits. That’s what made me realize that, deep down, I wanted to have a child and to not be able to do so would be devastating. And we all know how that turned out, so I can’t complain much. I’m lucky to have had one successful pregnancy, and to have my daughter. And my uterus. And I’m lucky that I have a great doctor who really does a great job of helping me manage this condition. It just feels like an uphill losing battle sometimes. Like now.

I’d hoped that this week would be fun and relaxing. B.’s off work, and I had hoped that we could have some good, fun family time. That hasn’t happened. Clara Jane’s been out of whack from all the holiday excitement. Then there was all the time spent hopping from doctor to doctor, which really did need to happen. But we’ve done very little as a family this week, and the things we have done have been dictated by one uber-cranky child. I’m just exhausted and disappointed, which, now that I think about it, pretty much describes this damn year on the whole: exhausting and disappointing.

I need to be at least a little positive, try to find some good in all of this. Good things did happen this year:

  • Clara Jane is making leaps and bounds, and she amazes me daily, even when she’s driving me to drink.
  • I haven’t had a panic attack in almost a full year. I could feel one coming on yesterday, and I was able to stop it in its tracks. A year ago, a similar situation would have left me incapacitated for at least a day. Now, it was a bad two minutes. A year ago, I never would have believed that would be possible.
  • The schmoop between these two is a constant source of warm-fuzzies and entertainment, and a sign that there might possibly be some sense of balance in the universe.
  • I’m writing my book. I’m writing my book, after a lifetime of dreaming about it. I’m writing my book.
  • Not only did I see U2 three times, but one of those shows was in Vegas, with primo seats, and 100% possible because of the extreme kindness and generosity of an extremely kind and generous person.
  • I’ve got more extremely kind and generous people in my life than anyone deserves.

    • I’m not going to make a list of all the bad things that happened this year. What purpose would it serve? Pissing and moaning about the things I’ve already pissed and moaned about would be a waste. But I can see if I’ve actually learned anything.

    With all the shit that went down this year – my dad’s bypass surgery and subsequent retirement, my near-suicidal state during the end of the anxiety and panic therapy, the loss of Kara’s mom and the horrible mass tragedies that seemed to happen one after another, I’ll remember 2005 as the year I finally became an adult. Every single one of those events illustrated something I had never fully grasped before – how important every single human being truly is.

    Facing the possible loss of one of my parents, the actual loss of a friend’s parent, and the huge human losses in the wake of the tsunami, the hurricanes and the earthquakes was the slap in the face I needed to realize just how important being a parent really is. And not just perfect parents who seem to do everything right; any parent.

    This year I learned that humanity’s foundation is the nurturing we give each other, and that parental nurturing is the deepest, most fundamental nurturing of all. It’s the most important thing in the world, even when it’s done by someone who stays in her pajamas all day and all too often turns on a Tivo’d “Sesame Street” when she’s sure that reading Everyone Poops for the ninth time today will force her to do a swan dive from the roof.

    Where to go from here? I’ve been envisioning 2006 as being a year of great things, of putting into action the lessons learned in 2005. I keep seeing it as the year I sell my book and fulfill the one goal, the one dream that I’ve had for as long as I’ve known that books are written by people. Before 2005, I had plenty to write about, but didn’t have the insight required to make it worth reading. Now, I think I have that. Paid a steep price for it, so I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste.

    Now, c’mere and gimme a hug. I think we all could use one.